


his father and his god

by mr-finch (soubriquet)



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Fingerfucking, M/M, Manipulation, PWP, blowjob, pre-existing cock piercing, slight dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soubriquet/pseuds/mr-finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not something he planned; it's not something he ever plans, seeing Walt. -- Set during the episode "End Times" (4x12).</p>
            </blockquote>





	his father and his god

**Author's Note:**

> "Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth  
> A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.  
> Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,  
> And Melacholy marked him for her own.
> 
> Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,  
> Heaven did a recompense as largely send:  
> He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,  
> He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.
> 
> No farther seek his merits to disclose,  
> Or draw his frailties from their dread abode  
> (There they alike in trembling hope repose),  
> The bosom of his Father and his God."
> 
> −Thomas Gray

It's not something he planned; it's not something he ever plans, seeing Walt. 

Usually they're at each other's throats, literally, and tonight is no exception. Jesse can still feel the imprint of the gun in his hand from the way he'd clutched it, pressing it hard enough into Walt's forehead to leave a mark.

It always ends like this. It's never something he plans.

The curtains are still drawn, there's an overturned table to his right, Jesse is sitting back on the couch with legs splayed and this guy is between them, stroking his prick.

He's like this a lot. Jesse doesn't really get it, although it makes him hard every time - how Walter seems to just _worship_ him when he's like this. Even still wearing his glasses, the dolt. 

Except maybe he knows why this is happening this time, and it isn't because they've just almost killed each other again, it's because they haven't seen each other in a while and well- Jesse isn't exactly known for being patient.

"Did you-" Walter had said when he pulled down his pants and got a view. "Did you get that done in _Mexico?_ "

"D'you think I'm that stupid?" Jesse said, and when there was no reply he'd splayed his hands. "Sure, I'll just ask Gus - hey man, would you let me out for half an hour so I can get my dick pierced? _Maybe_ not."

Walter hadn't answered, just curled his fingers around Jesse's dick and rolled his thumb over the cool silver metal protruding from his glans. It felt good. Well, that's what it was supposed to do, right?

"You idiot," Walt said, and Jesse was about to protest or tell him to go fuck another dick if this one was so objectionable, but then Walt had shoved him back and now here he was now lying down while Walt sprawled between his knees and did what he did best.

If Jesse's honest about it, he's probably had better lays, but there's something about the way he gets fucked by Mr White that makes him keep coming back. And coming. There's that.

It's the way he starts: he doesn't just get right to it, but he doesn't mess around with any of the touchy-feely stuff that might start to make both of them uncomfortable, either. He's on his dick, alright, but rather than necking it he's just sort of touching it; slow, squeezing strokes, and just as Jesse opens his mouth to tell him to get on with it, Walter leans forward and drags his lips over his head.

What was a rebuttal dies in Jesse's throat as Walt doesn't stop there, but tilts his neck and runs his mouth up the base of Jesse's dick, all hot breath and wet lips, right up and over his piercing. He's got to admit, it still twinges a little, but he doesn't give a shit, especially not when Walt pokes his tongue into the gap beneath it and slowly sucks on the metal, glancing up at Jesse to see how he's doing.

Jesse's a little pissed at how well the guy's taking it, and realises that he's been staring at Walt like a virgin getting her first cock, so he swallows and bucks up a little, hands gripping into the couch cushions. "You gonna take all day?"

Walt stops, and stares at him, like maybe he hurt his feelings. "You just held a gun to my head, Jesse. I think we have plenty of time."

He just sinks back into the cushions with a groan, and if he still had hair he'd be grabbing it - him or Mr White, he doesn't care. _Something_ to express his frustration.

Interestingly enough, it doesn't take very long for Walt to start moving again. There's a break during which Jesse doesn't look at him, won't give him the satisfaction of seeing that he wants more, and then Walt opens his mouth and encases him. Semi-consciously, Jesse pushes his hips up into it, biting off a noise, and as if Walt has practise with this sort of shit he withdraws all the way off, lips drawing over the piercing and Jesse's wet cockhead to let his dick dip down against the couch.

It's beyond frustrating - Walt's a _frustrating_ lay, that's it - a damn tease. 

It means that when the guy takes hold of his cock at the base and puts his mouth on him again, starts sucking him off, Jesse's harder than he means to be - and isn't that fucked up, that he has to watch how hard he gets just because Mr White likes to play around? If he didn't know better, he'd say the guy intends it, and he doesn't, so while he arches his hips off the couch and fucks into Walt's mouth, he tells him just that. "You sonuva bitch, you're such a- nngh, such a fucking-- _asshole._ "

Walt _laughs_ and that's so hot, shit, all the shuddering heat on his dick, but Jesse bites his lip and squeezes his eyes tight shut to try and regain some sense of control. 

He's interrupted by one finger drawing under his balls and down along his taint and Jesse almost leaps a foot in the air. "The fuck are you doing?" He grabs somewhat ineffectually at Walt's arm.

Walt just looks up at him, his voice that tired airy mix of Heisenberg and tutor. "If you're going to get a piercing, you should be prepared for new sensations, Jesse." His finger carries on, hovering very definitely at his asshole.

"Woah, wait, I didn't sign up for any-- "sensations", or anything, alright? I just- thought it'd be cool."

"Cool, hm?" Walt makes a face like he's being reasonable, thinking shit over. "Cool - like, taking your partner's gun and putting it to his head?"

"What?" Jesse raises both hands to his temples. "I already _told_ you, it was Gus. We figured it out. It's not-"

"You've changed, Jesse." Walter's fingers have been probing at him this whole time and Jesse's trying to ignore the dual throbbing of his dick and the hotter, different sort of feeling back there. "You're changing sides, I can feel it. Every day you look at me a little harder, while you work _with_ the men who betrayed us."

"I would never," says Jesse, "Never, _ever_ betray you."

"Then prove it."

Jesse bites his lip again, chews on a piece of skin, and there's a long pause.

Then, all of a sudden, he shrugs his shoulders and flops back into the couch. "Sure. Do what you want."

He inhales as the tip of Walt's finger pushes in, but then the guy's talking and Jesse realises it isn't just fingers, it wouldn't be that slick.

"I would never hurt you," Walter says, "How anyone could, I don't know."

Jesse will admit he likes the feeling; how hot it is, and that's mainly what's distracting him from trying to process these statements, because something metallic in his chest says that if he did, he wouldn't be able to stop chasing them. And he's not afraid of stopping this, exactly, it's just… easier to let it go. Easier to enjoy it, to let Walt have his day and stop being such a big girl about it. 

"Uhh?" Jesse says, noncommittally, and grimaces, wriggling on the couch to try and get more comfortable; in response, Walt hooks his legs over his shoulders easy as that and Jesse just stares at him, stares and stares and stares.

"Funny," he says, with his voice a little harder, a little strained, "Looks like you've done this before."

"You wouldn't want both of us floundering in the dark now, would you?" is the answer he gets, but Walt won't look at him, just keeps jacking him off with one hand and pushing, pushing with the other. Straight, or straight-ish fingers curl inside of him, probably at some angle the guy could actually name.

That isn't enough. Jesse leans forward - it isn't far - and grabs the front of his shirt. _"Who?"_

Walter jerks to a stop and stares at him, and maybe it would be alright if he could name the look, but it's just blank, unreadable. A look, that's all it is, like you'd give to a dog. "What does it matter?"

Jesse just yanks at his collar. "I might _know them,_ " he says, eyes hard and a little confused with this mixture of outrage that he can't place and doesn't want to name. "They might know _me._ " He blinks, and the words come to him. "I don't want to mix business with _friends,_ okay? Or whatever-- this is."

Walt chuckles, but this time it isn't that good. "Jesse. You think this is a hobby of mine? Chemistry teacher goes around picking up junkies or ex-students or just anyone off the street, because they'd do anything for a dollar?" He presses his lips together, then shakes his head slightly. "No. It's just you. Besides, what consenting adults do in their free time is their business."

"Oh yeah? Then what's this? _Business?_ "

"You said it yourself. I'm just answering your question." 

In answer to that, Jesse throws his head back and hooks one arm between it and the couch. "Jesus." With his free hand he presses his fingers and thumb over his eyes and pushes there, like he's trying to stop a headache. "When I asked for a blow I didn't sign up for a fucking-- verbal lesson."

Walt adds an extra finger on this stroke, and Jesse can almost hide his reaction at this angle, all curling into it and mouthing an 'ohh', and for a moment he doesn't care if Mr White's seen it, it feels good so what should he expect? 

A bead of pre-cum runs down his erection and Walt catches it with his damn _tongue._

"So what's this-" Jesse starts to say, he's got to say something anyway because he's gonna lose it, "What's this all leading up to, huh?"

There's no answer for a disquieting length of time, just Walt steadily milking him and fucking him with his fingers, all calm and infuriatingly slow. The guy doesn't even break for thought, doesn't need to with the way he's going.

Then Walt shifts, and puts one foot on the floor while his other leg remains kneeling. He doesn't pull Jesse nearer, doesn't even ask, just leans a little bit closer. One of Jesse's legs slides off his shoulder, dropping to rest on Walt's knee; both ignore it. 

Walt is too quiet for too long and so Jesse squints down at him, chest moving up and down with his fight-or-flight breathing and eyes flitting from Walter's left eye to his right, like he can't decide between them. 

"I want you to know what it's like to be completely at someone else's mercy," Walter says. "And you will feel it, believe me."

"Oh yeah?" Jesse breathes, "How do you know?"

"Because I say so, and because you will listen."

Jesse just stares at him through half-lidded eyes, hearing the whoosh of his own breath in and out. He should be angry. He should hate this. It's disturbing to know just how much he doesn't. "Okay," he says, "What should I do?"

"Want it," Walter says, and arches his fingers inside of him, brushing against something that makes Jesse jerk his knees up and curl his nails into his palms. 

"J-jesus. Do that again."

Walt obliges, and this time Jesse is even less ready for it, rolling his hips into the- the sensation, and leaving off in little weak thrusts. Walt's hand is like an anchor on his cock, moving but only just, and this is suddenly much too aggravating and Jesse starts intentionally trying to buck into it. 

Walt answers by removing all his fingers completely, and Jesse hits a cushion with the back of his hand. "Oh, come on! Mr White!"

He doesn't expect a hand on his chest or to see Walt suddenly looming over him, still with his goddamn glasses on, and this time when Heisenberg leans closer, Jesse feels himself shrink and his cock give one low, hot throb. 

"Only when I say." The handprint on his chest is so heavy it must be the reason why he's dizzy. That voice rumbles through it and then through Jesse, weighted. "You got that?"

Jesse's breath hitches, catching with the air in his throat. "I got it, Mr White." He twists beneath him, trying to breathe easier. "I got it."

The pressure increases to a peak just for a second, and then withdraws.

"Good," says Walt. 

He kneels down on his haunches, withdrawing a small plastic container from his back pocket. It snaps open as he uncaps it and he coats his fingers with the juice inside, taking his time. 

Jesse understands that this, again, must be punishment. He doesn't say anything about it though; he knows what'll happen. Meantime, though, while the guy is just sitting there and recapping the bottle and putting it down on the floor, Jesse can't just stay quiet, and he thinks maybe he can talk if he doesn't protest or anything.

"What are you going to do?" he asks, quietly.

"I told you," says Walt, "Don't make me explain it again."

He holds his tongue after that.


End file.
